Life, Interrupted
by Nightwitch87
Summary: A (sort of) two-shot continuation of "Exit Route", although they also work as stand alone pieces. In other words: Olivia and Brian's renewed attempt at "just dating". Post-Season 15. Disclaimer: I own nothing, not making any profit.
1. Chapter 1

**Life, Interrupted**

"…so one minute, I'm persuading Barba that it's a good case, and what does this girl do, the week before court? She gets arrested for another DUI." She couldn't keep the frustration out of her voice. "Not the best idea."

Brian shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah, well, the timing's probably not a coincidence. You're talking about a rape victim here, 21 years old. Can you blame her?"

"I know, I know, it's hard on her, it always is." She took a sip of her wine. "But she's not exactly making it easier for herself. The defense will have a field day with that, after she only reported the rape when she got picked up by the police the first time. They'll make her out to be an alcoholic who didn't know what she was talking about the first time, they'll say she used it as an excuse to get out of the first DUI. Which makes no sense, you know, in all those years, I've never seen that happening."

He shrugged. "That's their job, isn't it. That's what they always say."

"Well, it shouldn't be their job to slander the victim. Juries are so gullible. If they saw the pictures of the bruises, it could go differently, but I bet he'll get that thrown out as prejudicial, and if the judge doesn't go for that, they'll just argue 'rough sex' again, like any woman just loves getting injured. And I just don't know if she's strong enough for all that, facing that in court. I've tried talking to her and told her to get professional help, but…" She trailed off, noticing that Brian's eyes had glazed over as he was staring ahead blankly. She had been rambling again, disclosing too many details, and he clearly wasn't listening. "I'm sorry. I know you don't like hearing about all this stuff."

"No, it's just…yeah, okay, I don't like hearing about it."

It bothered her that she always felt like she had to censor herself around him, that she couldn't talk to him about what was going on. If she did, he always turned quiet and tight-lipped, until he eventually disengaged from the conversation completely. "It's just what's been on my mind."

"I know, but it's not like you can do anything about any of this."

She was going to object, but there was really nothing to object to. He was right. She couldn't, and that was precisely what was bothering her. "I guess not." She smoothed out her napkin on the table.

"And I sure as hell can't" he said abrasively.

She sighed. Sometimes, he was being such a typical guy. "I'm not telling you about this because I expect you to fix it, or to come up with a solution."

"Why _are_ you telling me about it?"

"Because…we're sharing things about our day." Their main subject over dinner had been Noah, as usual, before eventually, inevitably, it had somehow come to this. "That's what people do."

He lowered his voice. "Oh yeah, regular people talk about rapists and child molesters over dinner all the time? Do we really have to do that?"

'All the time' was an overstatement, but she decided to let it slide. She really had been dumping a lot on him. "No, we don't. You could talk to me about your work, you know" she offered, leaning forward slightly.

"I don't want to talk about my work" he brushed her off yet again.

"Well, then…" She turned her palms upward. He was making this difficult. "What do you want to talk about?"

He scoffed, crossing his arms and increasing the distance between them. "We always do this."

"Do what?" She didn't understand where this sudden irritation was coming from. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"I don't want to argue, not here" he backtracked, gesturing at their busy surroundings. "I just thought maybe we could leave work aside and have a nice evening, have some 40 Dollar steak, sit and talk about us…"

For the first time in minutes, she looked around, taking note of the nicely set tables, the cloth napkins in the shape of fans, the long, white candle on the table between them, the expensive bottle of wine they were sharing. This wasn't one of their regular places, neither was it the sort of fun place Brian loved – at most, it was the kind of place he chose when he was trying to impress someone and get laid on an early date. They had been trying to change it up a little, as far as you could change it up on your fourth (or fifth?) official date since they had decided to give this another try. She had been enjoying the slow pace, the ease of "just dating", which was barely compatible with her already busy lifestyle. Arguing on the fourth date, that had to be some kind of record. They were screwing this up at a rapid speed.

"I'm sorry." She reached across the table, putting her hand on his arm. "I'll try to switch it off."

He threw a doubtful glance her way, but softened quickly, taking her hand from his arm and giving her fingers a squeeze before letting go. "All right."

"This is a nice restaurant" she verbalized her thoughts. It was weird, but sometimes, she forgot to say the simplest things that went through her head, expecting him to just know how she felt about something.

"It should be. I read about it in the New Yorker. 'Get there while it's still affordable.'"

"You read the New Yorker?" she asked, amused. She could not picture him sitting around, flipping through the colourful pages just to find a steak house.

"The things you do for love…" Hearing his own words, he quickly averted his gaze, developing a sudden interest in the dessert that was being served to the group at the next table.

She smirked, enjoying his discomfort a little too much, but deciding to give him a way out. "Love of meat is a serious business."

He grinned, deciding to take this verbal game a little further. "Aw, Liv, I wouldn't objectify you like that."

She kicked him lightly under the table, stifling a laugh. "You better not. Overconfidence kills."

"I'll disregard that veiled threat." He took a sip of his wine in a deliberately poised manner.

"Not so veiled, I'd say." She sensed an excited rush in the muscles of her face, an inability to stop smiling that she hadn't felt around him in a long time. It was like a brief escape to the early days, the easy, playful days before everything in their lives had fallen apart and become a battlefield. When she looked at him now, his cheeky grin in the low light, the sparkle in his hazel eyes, then yes, she had to admit, he didn't look half bad. Most of all, he smelled so, so good, and she could still feel the sensory memory of his brief touch on her fingers. Desire reared its head again, peeking out from where it had been buried under work, worries and dirty diapers. She had felt it briefly before, on their last date, when that goodnight kiss had turned into a special extended version that wasn't quite PG anymore. She had stopped it in time, said her goodbyes and gone to bed unable to sleep, replaying it in her mind.

She wasn't ready for more, not right now, when she wanted things to be easy and not yet complicated by rushed intimacy and choices. She didn't want to get used to him being around too quickly. Her life with Noah was deliberately kept separate from these occasional evenings with Brian, and at the moment, she wasn't quite sure how the two could ever fit together. They had been meeting up in public places, sitting and talking about nothing and anything, quickly reaching their old level of familiarity again. In a way, they had been doing the exact opposite of how they had started their initially casual relationship last time. Keeping things light and flirty was working out well so far, so remaining at this level seemed sensible. Or was it? At this very moment, the thought of taking him home with her wasn't unappealing –being held again, feeling close to him, getting some release- but things that looked good by night tended to be different by day. Sex had never been an issue for her, and definitely not with him, but there was no way of going back to it now, going back to it in their own bed now, without it _meaning _something. While she might want him right now, and might let herself fall in the dark, she wasn't up for cuddling afterwards and spending the night together, or ready to be woken up by Noah at 5am with Brian still there, needing to have a big "what does this mean" morning after talk while she was trying to get a baby and herself ready. The thought alone was a mood killer.

"Hey, earth to Liv? What's up?"

"Nothing." She made herself smile again. God, he was trying so hard. She could at least make an effort to be fully present. "Just wondering what you wanted to talk about."

"Oh, nothing in particular." That line usually wasn't a good sign. It was classic mixed message Brian. "But this has been going pretty well, hasn't it? All things considered."

"Yeah, it has."

"Cool. Just checking." The fact that he needed to check was a reminder of the uncertainty that remained between them and the way that their break-up had been a long time coming, but never discussed until that one evening, when it had happened so quickly, so harmoniously, that it had been easy to miss in a blink. All the same, she wasn't ready to erase it as if it hadn't happened. There was still that ice block to chip away at.

"I like that we're taking things slow" she said, deciding to word it in a positive manner rather than as an "I'm not ready to go faster".

The corners of his mouth twitched slightly. "Always have."

"Yeah, but it's different now." Priorities had shifted. Life had happened. Time had happened, and in some ways, its erosive effect was a good thing. Even Brian struck her as less unsettled, more open than before, or was that because they didn't see each other so much now? "It's less-" She was interrupted mid-thought by her phone ringing. Wow, impressively bad timing, especially if it was work. Brian couldn't refrain from groaning as she began rummaging through her small purse. "Sorry."

"Hey, I'm used to it." He took a large sip of his water. "Guess you'll be leaving in two minutes."


	2. Chapter 2

Finally! She remained completely still for a moment after closing the door, straining her ears for any sound, but none came. Noah was sleeping peacefully at last, or at least as peacefully as was possible for him at the moment, poor thing. A cool washcloth had done the trick. She walked over to the couch and slumped down on it, contradicting her own house rules by resting her feet against the coffee table. She splayed her toes, enjoying their freedom of movement after her feet had been trapped in a pair of pretty and entirely uncomfortable shoes that she never wore. Now, she remembered why they usually lived somewhere at the bottom of her closet. She liked dressing up and didn't mind wearing impractical shoes as long as she didn't have to run in them, but tights were another matter. She hated the feeling of nylon against her skin. Taking them off, however, seemed like too much effort right now.

She let the evening pass through her mind, regretting the premature end of her date while, at the same time, feeling slightly guilty about going out when Noah had been whiny these past few days. A part of her had even been relieved at the break, although leaving him with someone else at night was never easy.

She glanced at the clock. It was late. She could go to bed, but sleep was far from her mind. Something didn't sit right with her. It was as if the ball was in her court and she needed to act. She couldn't leave things unsettled. She needed to tell him that everything was okay, and that they would make up for this another time. They could make this work, and she had to prove that after he had hit a sensitive spot by confirming that sometimes, she was the kind of work obsessed freak that she had been painted as in public. But she wasn't. She really wasn't. She had other things on her mind now. Why did it matter so much whether he saw that? She shouldn't be dependent on anyone else's opinion. Overanalyzing this was no use.

Either way, she simply wanted to hear his voice. She loved their occasional late night phone calls. So she leaned forward, picking up the phone she had put down on the table earlier. Her fingers touched and swiped the right way without thinking.

His answer came surprisingly fast. "Hi, Liv."

"Hey. Were you asleep?"

"No, not even close." She could hear that the TV was on in the background at his end, although he seemed to be turning down the volume as they spoke. Leaving the TV on was an annoying habit of his, but right now, the familiar sound was oddly comforting. "How's Noah?"

"He's fine now" she sighed, "I just got him to sleep, but the sitter was worried because she thought he seemed hot and flushed."

"Is he sick?"

"No, teething."

"Does he have a fever?" Brian asked, and she was touched by the concern in his voice.

"No. I think his gums are sore though." She restrained herself from going into detail about the ordeal of acquiring a full set of baby teeth. She wasn't sure Brian was quite ready for that much baby detail.

"Poor little guy."

"It'll pass. He'll get through it."

"Yeah."

On the other hand, it was nice to talk to someone who didn't feel a need to dish out advice, usually referencing reliable sources such as "in my day" and "the internet says", or, worse, who gave her a list of all the things you could possibly do wrong, convinced that any parent using a topical remedy was as good as negligently killing their own child. "He's okay, but it's good I checked on him. Sorry I had to rush off like that."

"You couldn't help it" he replied, more understanding than before. "I'm glad it's nothing serious. And that you called."

A surge of affection rushed through her as she realized, or consciously noticed for the first time, that he cared. The different areas of her life weren't as separate as she was trying to keep them. They could never be completely disentangled. "So what are you up to now?" she asked casually.

"Not much, just watching re-runs of 70s TV."

She cringed, and for once, she was glad that the phone was separating them so he couldn't see her. Late night TV was a habit of his that she was pretty sure had started around the time their relationship had deteriorated, although he had claimed it had always been a part of his perpetual bachelor lifestyle. A lame excuse, because it had been pretty noticeable when he had given up on trying to talk to her, had let her close the bedroom door on him and remained in the living room until after she was asleep or he believed her to be. (Leaving aside the fact that it seemed pretty damn unlikely for a guy like Brian to harbor a secret interest in Little House on the Prairie.) She couldn't really blame him for it, after she had tended to react with irritation to whatever attempt at communication he made, because his conversation had always tended to include laden enquiries about her well-being that had made her feel like a charity case. Then, whenever she had talked to him, he hadn't actually wanted to hear it. Love, any form of love, was conditional, and without reciprocation, anyone but the greatest stalker was bound to give up eventually. Sometimes, the TV had even acted as a buffer between them, allowing them to sit in the same room without needing to argue, giving them something safe to talk about.

"..and eating" he added when she didn't react.

"Eating? We just had dinner."

"The portions were small. This is dessert." It was slightly unfair how he could pretty much eat whatever he wanted without ever putting on weight, which he claimed was entirely the result of rigorous exercise. She was pretty sure lucky genes played a role somewhere in there.

"And here I thought you weren't a fan of dessert."

"I am when it's left-over potatoes."

She smiled, playing with the hem of her dress. "You think you want to come over when Columbo's done solving the case?"

"Sure" he answered immediately, his tone betraying no emotion, as if this was something they frequently did. "We already know the ex-wife did it anyway. Give me half an hour."

A jolt went through her when he actually agreed. "Uh, Bri, just to be clear: This is not a booty call." Saying it out loud made her feel ridiculous, but it was best to avoid raising expectations. She wanted his arms around her, now. But she also didn't want casual sex, and she definitely didn't want anything to happen like this, to smooth over a disagreement and an interrupted date, with her trying to listen with one ear to whether Noah could be waking up.

He laughed hoarsely. "Not...getting…lucky…tonight…okay, I've made a note of that, thanks for the heads up."

"See you soon."

She hung up, dropped the phone on the table and leaned back, trying to clear her mind and figure out for herself what exactly it was that she wanted, what she was trying to reclaim here.

_He ran his fingers through her hair slowly, smoothing out any tangles that had inevitably resulted from their shared activity. "It's long" he observed, breaking the silence._

"_Yeah." Had it really taken him months to notice this? _

"_Longer than it used to be." _

_She wasn't sure about the point he was making. Yes, over twelve years had aged them. Yes, she had grown comfortable with long hair, with a different, curvier shape, with some superficial elements of femininity. She was still the same person, if anything, more settled in her body. "I decided to change it up a bit."_

"_I like it. But I liked it short, too."_

_She lifted her head from his arm to look at him. "There's an ambiguous compliment."_

_A goofy grin spread across his face. "You don't respond well to compliments, I remember that."_

"_Not true."_

"_So true. 'Hey, Liv, you look nice today' – 'I come to work to arrest sex offenders, not to look nice'." His imitation of her tone was spot on._

"_That was different." She recalled the embarrassment of lying in bed beside him, acutely aware that she was naked and the knowledge that they would have to work side by side after this, that people might know. There was none of that now. She didn't feel a need to get up and take off. Things were so easy now. _

"_It was" he agreed, talking about something different. "This was better."_

_She rested her hand on his chest, trying to feel his heartbeat, but feeling nothing but warmth and a bit of hair. Her hand moved to the side, tracing the area around his scars without actually touching it. "Does it still hurt?"_

"_Sometimes. Not right now." He stopped her hand, picked it up and placed a kiss on her palm. _

"_Good."_

"_I had a good nurse."_

"_I had to be, you were a terrible patient." She had spent a lot of time around his apartment after he had gotten out of hospital, trying to help him while he had insisted with wounded pride that he didn't need any help, while struggling to even put on a shirt. That was how this whole thing had started. _

"_Oh, I was talking about the young blonde back at the hospital." She could hear the mischievous grin in his voice as he whispered into her hair. _

"_I think the physical exertion went to your head" she retorted. "Let's try and sleep."_

Things could never go back to that time of plain intimacy. She yearned for company at its simplest. Familiarity. Someone to sit with her, to lie with her – not in a weirdly biblical sense, but just to be there. But if that was all she wanted, why did she spend the next half hour freshening up without changing, touching up her hair and make-up and applying more of the one perfume he had once given her as a gift that she actually liked, while maintaining the illusion of not having changed a thing about her appearance? She tidied up some of the things that were lying around, moved the high chair out of the way and wiped down the coffee table. Time seemed to fly, and she noticed that it took him less than half an hour from when she had hung up to when he actually rang the doorbell and announced himself as her "gentleman caller" over the speaker, letting her know that she would never live down the "booty call" comment.

When she opened the door, she was greeted by a winsome grin that made her want to kiss him and tell him to piss off at the same time as he leaned against the doorframe, his arm up. "At your service."

She couldn't help smirking despite the gnawing sense of embarrassment. "No top hat? Your luck is sinking by the minute." Unlike her, he had changed into casual clothes the second he got home, throwing on some jeans and a t-shirt.

"I didn't know I had any." Despite the display of confidence, she noted that he did not kiss her as a greeting, not so much as a peck on the cheek.

She grabbed his hand and pulled him inside, leading him to the sofa. He seemed surprised by the initiative, but went along with it, sitting down close to her with his arm up on the back of the couch so they were facing each other.

"You want a drink?" He reluctantly let go of her hand as she got up again to fetch her own glass of water from the kitchen counter. It seemed easier to keep moving.

"Uh, no, thanks."

"All right." She sat down beside him again, one leg tucked under her body as far as her dress allowed it. He looked well, she noticed once again, a little fuller and more toned in his upper body than he had used to. Maybe there was something to the whole exercise thing. Their time apart seemed to have done him a world of good.

He glanced around the living room. "The place looks nice."

"Yeah, it's amazing how much cleaning you can accomplish in twenty minutes."

"You cleaned because of me? Ha, you should see my place…"

"I remember" she replied with a smile, meeting his gaze.

His own grin faded as he looked at her with a bit more intensity than she was comfortable with. The hand on the back of the sofa had wandered upwards, his thumb caressing her bare arm more lightly than she could stand. It sent electric shivers down her back, but there was no teasing in it. She wanted that playfulness from a minute ago back, but the mood had shifted. "Liv…" A sadness, a kind of regret, was etched on his face and she knew he was about to completely ruin the moment by saying something depressing and revealing.

So she did the first thing she could think of by leaning in and kissing him, catching him by surprise. It only took him a split second to respond, his lips parting quickly, and he abandoned his gentle caresses to wrap his arm around her waist, pulling her closer, while his other hand touched her cheek to brush back her hair. As their kiss deepened, she noticed the faint taste of peppermint that indicated some preparation on his part as well. All thought went out the window as she propped herself up, trying to figure out what to do with the limbs between them and noticed that her leg somehow –she wasn't quite sure how- had ended up draped across his thigh. His hand found her knee, fingers brushing against the sensitive skin at the back. Damn tights.

He broke the kiss, coming up for air. "I-"

"Shh…" she murmured, resting her forehead against his. "Not now."

He abandoned all discussion and placed a line of kisses along her face, travelling down to the spot on her neck just below her ear and over to her clavicle, and she gasped at this simple action. It had been such a long time, too long. Her hand wandered up underneath his shirt, needing to feel pure skin, exploring the taut muscles of his back a little less gently until he pulled back to watch her face. A smile played around his own lips as his hand slid higher up on her thigh to where her dress had bunched up around her hips. She closed her eyes briefly, trying to let herself go in the moment, but something wasn't quite right. Her body went rigid as his fingers reached their destination.

He froze. "Liv?"

"Yeah?" She opened her eyes, deliberately keeping herself from altering her position while focusing on her own breathing.

"You okay?" He moved his hand back to the lower outside of her thigh, frowning.

"Yep…just…" She couldn't adequately explain it herself. Suddenly, she was acutely aware of the evidence of his arousal near her leg, and it made her weirdly uncomfortable. This was new.

He shifted a little, sitting more upright. "Um, sorry, you said…no booty call…"

"Can we please stop calling it that?" Making out like a couple of teenagers on the couch, not wanting to go "all the way", suddenly seemed immature.

"Fine."

"I want this." Badly.

"Okay" he replied, puzzled. "I'm a little confused here."

Confused, she understood. Concerned, she didn't like. "You're not the only one. Sorry." She covered his hand with hers, stopping him from withdrawing it.

"Look, we don't have to do this. I don't want to if you're not-"

"I want to, but not if it's…temporary." Something kept her from going all the way in another sense again.

"Ah."

Ah? The response she had hoped for had been a more decided reassurance that this was not a one-night stand type of thing that they would live to regret. She wasn't looking for empty promises of forever here, only something beyond his tendency to look no further than the present day, a reason to let herself hope for some stability and peace at last. "Forget it, let's not get into that now." She postponed it again. 'After all…tomorrow is another day.'

"Maybe-"

"Never mind."

"Hey." He squeezed her leg lightly. "You mind letting me finish here? Whatever happens with this, with us, it's not temporary…I mean, we're not-"

He was interrupted again by a muted mewl from the other room. Olivia held up her hand to silence him, listening for a moment as the sound died down to a quiet whining. Perfect timing, kid.

"Aren't you supposed to react promptly?" Brian whispered after a moment, and she wondered where he had learned his infant caregiving knowledge from.

"With newborns. But he's learning to self-soothe." She hoped so, anyway. If she went to check on Noah now, the chances of him going back to sleep, ever, actually tended to be diminished, but it was hard not to go to him all the same. The whining ceased after a moment. She remained perfectly still for another few seconds before letting out the breath she'd been holding.

"He's pretty good at it, apparently" Brian commented.

"Our lucky day."

He tilted his head back against the back of the sofa, turning his gaze to the ceiling. "I don't think either of us really gets to finish our sentences today."

"Too many interruptions" she sighed. The mood had been killed without question. A part of her didn't mind. This was more within her comfort zone than lengthy "where is this going?" conversations.

He shrugged. "It happens."

She slumped back into the corner of the couch, stretching out both her legs across his lap without bothering to pull down her dress.

"You comfy there?" he asked in an obvious tone of "you're hogging all the space".

"Yes, thank you."

His smile broadened as he looked at her, his thumb rubbing circles on her knee. The tension began to disappear from her body. This was how things had used to be between them, once upon a time in a different life. Even knowing that things could never return to exactly this place after all the shit they had been through, they were still looking for it on some level: a place to connect to, to continue from. To get back in sync, as Brian had once called it.

"You know, disruptions are part of it" she stated matter-of-factly.

"Part of what?"

"Part of everything. There's Noah and work and your undercover stuff…"

"Yeah. But we're still here."

She wasn't entirely sure what he was trying to say, but it was enough for now in all its sincerity. "Still here and it's getting late. You could stay the night if you want –_ just_ stay over, if it's not too weird."

"Weird? I have stayed here before."

"But never with an early riser." Never around her foster son. This was a far bigger step than any sex that would or wouldn't happen could ever be.

"I'm sure he's no worse than you." She could sense his discomfort the second after the words had left his mouth. Her months of insomnia were a touchy subject.

She ignored it, not wanting to turn it into a big deal. "You haven't had the pleasure yet."

"Guess I'll have to experience it sooner or later. And tomorrow's Sunday." He hesitated, scratching the stubble on his neck. "I was thinking, maybe –if you're not busy and the weather's nice- maybe we could head to the park or something?"

She smiled. "I'd like that."

**The end.**

_Author's Note:__ As always, let me know what you think if you want to, and thank you for your feedback – any feedback. _


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